by Nance Sparks
Aren had no idea how much time had passed since the tornado touched down. It seemed like only seconds had passed, though she knew better, and however long it had been, she felt like they couldn’t get to town soon enough. Once out on the main road, the evidence of the storm became all too real. Branches and mailboxes were strewn across the road. The scattered debris became more intense the closer they got to town. The wind was still whipping and swirling the rain in all directions making it hard to see. There were a few cars on the shoulder of the road with their passengers standing up on top of the hood or roof, hoping to get a better look at the storm. Some screamed out warnings that there had been a tornado ahead, though she could no longer see it. Aren remained focused, constantly searching for the safest path as they raced for certain devastation.
Finally, their journey brought them to the edge of town. The sirens had silenced, leaving behind an eerie creaking and popping of wood splintered by the fierce winds. The twister seemed to have finally dissolved as quickly as it had appeared, although the sky was still tinted with an eerie green hue. Aren pulled back on Wyatt’s reins, slowing him to an easy walk.
“Watch for electrical wires on the street,” she called over to Carol, who had followed her lead and was easily walking Doc down the road.
They looked from side to side at the devastation around them. The twister had cut a huge path right through the center of town. Cars were flipped up on top of houses and slammed into trees that had somehow stayed anchored, though they weren’t much more than rooted poles now. A stoplight had blown through the roof of a parked car. They navigated the horses around the splintered remains of someone’s roof which was now spread all over the road. People were finally starting to emerge from their cellars here and there, walking out to the street and taking in the destruction as well.
“I want to head over to the hardware store, just to make sure Maggie is okay,” Aren said once they were able to work their way around the stranded roof.
It took them some time to work their way a half mile up the road. Cars, furniture, sections of houses, and downed power lines littered the streets and sidewalks. Thankfully, so far, they hadn’t found a person lost to the storm. When Aren looked for the hardware store, all she saw were the crumbled remains of brick and glass. Her heart pounded and she nudged Wyatt to speed up racing toward the remnants of the building. Maggie was the closest thing to family she had besides Carol. Parts of the store littered the parking lot and street. Bricks had been thrown in every direction, shattering through car windows, houses, and one even sticking out of a downed telephone pole. Aren pulled back on Wyatt’s reins and slid off his back. She tied his reins to the bumper of an upside-down car and ran toward the debris, calling for Maggie.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Carol tied off Doc in a similar fashion and went to the other side of the rubble, also calling out for Maggie. They flipped over a section of shelving unit and found nothing beneath it. Aren turned her attention to another section of shelving and ran toward it. It looked like it was resting on top of something, though she couldn’t tell what it was. She called for Carol to help her push up the long run of shelves.
They lifted with all their strength and could barely budge the more than twenty feet of shelving.
“I’m going to pull up on it one section at a time and you tell me if you see anyone trapped beneath it, okay?” Aren explained to Carol.
Carol knelt and looked beneath each section of shelving as Aren lifted it up. The first two sections seemed to be nothing more than rolls of landscaping plastic or mailboxes, but in the third section, Carol caught the movement of a hand.
“This one, someone’s under this one!” Carol shouted.
“Would you hand me that section of shelf over there so we can prop this up a bit?” Aren asked. Carol nodded and ran for the metal shelf. They shoved it into the opening and it held the shelf with some stability.
Aren knelt and peered into the opening, “Can you hear me?” She called into the darkness beneath the shelf. The hand made a thumbs-up sign. “Hold on, I’m going to see if we can lift this shelving off of you. Try to move out from under the shelf if we get it high enough, okay?” Another thumbs-up indicated that the person heard her.
Carol followed Aren to the horses. “Leave Doc tied. I think that bit of a wall should help me get some lift on the shelving. I’ll need you to stay by the person trapped and help pull them free. Please don’t crawl beneath the shelving just in case the rope snaps or something.” Aren turned to look at Carol. “Promise me!”
“I promise.” Carol ran back to stay with the trapped person.
Aren freed the rope from Wyatt’s saddle, then went to the shelving and tied the rope off through holes in the metal at the top of each side. The base of the unit was still bolted into the concrete of the floor. Aren closed her eyes briefly and exhaled a sigh of relief. It would stay in place instead of sliding over the person beneath it. She ran over to Wyatt and untied his reins before she led him over to the rope and quickly secured it to the saddle. After checking for a clear path, she took the reins and asked the large horse to walk forward. The rope grew tight quickly, and Aren could see Wyatt straining to pull the bent metal up to its original upright position. His hooves slid in the wet, muddy ground, but still Aren urged him on. She could hear the metal creaking, beginning to give and rise. Wyatt dug his hooves in and continued to pull, stretching the rope to guitar string tight.
“Okay, stop!” Carol called out. “She’s free.”
“Is it Maggie?” Aren asked, while backing Wyatt up. She patted him on the shoulder before running around the small base of the building and meeting up with Carol. Carefully, Aren helped Carol pull the person free. Aren sighed with relief to see Maggie crawl from beneath the shelving.
“Maggie, can you talk?” Aren asked, kneeling beside her. Other than a few scrapes, she appeared unharmed. Aren quickly removed her pack and unzipped the main compartment.
“Yeah, I can talk. I had a mouthful of insulation when you called out for me. That’s why I couldn’t do anything but move my hand. I couldn’t open my mouth and risk inhaling it,” Maggie said, trying to sit up.
“Just stay down there for a second would ya? Let me take a quick look before you try to move too much,” Aren said sternly. As she looked into Maggie’s eyes for shards of glass and checked her over, she asked, “Was there anyone else in the store when it hit?”
“Bunch of people, when the sirens went off, I sent them all down to the basement and was just heading for the stairs myself when the building came apart like a damn puzzle tossed in the air,” Maggie said.
“Well, as amazing as it is, you appear to be unharmed other than some bumps and bruises,” Aren said, hugging Maggie tightly. “Where’s the stairway? I imagine everyone down below would like out.”
Maggie stood up carefully, holding her lower back and brushed off her clothes. She turned and took in the store. It was completely leveled. She walked carefully over to the location of the stairwell.
“It should be here, beneath this car,” she said, pointing to a station wagon balancing on its side.
“Well, let’s see if we can move it,” Aren said as she worked to untie the rope from the shelving. The knots were pulled too tight with the effort Wyatt had put into moving it. Rather than fight the knot, Aren pulled her knife out of her jeans and cut the rope as close to the knot as she could. “Maggie, do you have a tow strap around here? I want as much distance between the horse and car as possible. I’m afraid he’ll spook when the car comes crashing down if it’s directly behind him.” Aren looked at the angle of the crushed heap of metal and tried to figure out the best way to do it.
The windows had all been blown out. Aren climbed up on top of the vehicle and tied the rope onto the frame of the car. She checked the area for downed power lines and led Wyatt over to the spot.
“Hell, nothing’s left! I’m sorry, Aren, but I can’t find anything to help you!” Maggie hollered out, kneeling in
front of another shelf, pulling out items and tossing them over her shoulder. Carol, too, was searching the rubble for what Aren needed.
“It’s okay, I’ll just have to use this other coil of rope and hope it’s strong enough,” Aren called back. She released the rope from Wyatt’s saddle and knotted the two splices together. Again, she tied the free end to Wyatt’s saddle and urged him forward. One of his rear hooves found a stout tree root deep in the mud and allowed him to thrust forward. The tangled metal box on wheels began to budge a bit.
“Come on, Wyatt, you can do it, boy.”
He pulled, frantically seeking out footing. Finally, he managed a few steps of solid purchase and the car fell, bouncing the shocks and springs to their limits.
Aren hugged the huge horse and watched with a smile as those trapped in the basement began to emerge. She caught Carol’s eye and gave her a big smile. Even with the destruction all around them, today felt like a win.
Chapter Forty
Almost an hour had passed since the tornado had plowed through the tiny town. Emergency vehicles were stuck outside town, unable to get around the broken roads. Aren could hear chainsaws off in the distance working to clear a way in. She gathered those she’d freed and asked them to mill around town and see if anyone needed help, and then she and Carol mounted up and began to search for anyone wounded or still trapped.
They hadn’t gotten more than fifty feet down the street when the calls for help began to sound from all directions.
“Hey, cowgirls, there’s people over here that need help!” A large bellied man waved from across the street.
“Over here, too,” an older woman called out.
“Try to keep them calm, we’ll be over there in just a moment.” Aren called to the older woman as she urged Wyatt toward the man waving for help.
Carol and Aren slid from their horses and ran over. They both fixed instantly on the battered family pulling themselves from a storm culvert. The father looked to be the most seriously injured.
“Could you see if you can find me some clean water?” Aren asked the man who’d waved them over as she pulled her pack off.
“That twister hit and we couldn’t get over to the storm shelter. I just shoved everyone into this culvert. We could hardly breathe with all the wind and stuff flying around in there,” the battered man managed to say while helping his family out of the metal tube. Carol got on the other side and helped them make their way out.
Aren quickly looked the kids over, but they were fine, just scared more than anything. The parents had taken the brunt of the injuries, each having blocked an end of the culvert with their bodies. Most of their injuries were superficial and wouldn’t need much more than a good cleaning, but a few were deep enough to need stitches.
“My wife first, Doc,” the man asked, holding his wife in his arms.
Aren smiled at the man’s love for his family. “I’m a veterinarian, actually. I can numb these cuts and get them stitched for you, or you can wait for emergency services to get into town.” Aren gently pulled shards of glass from the woman’s arm.
“I know who you are, and I appreciate your help. Please, get her sewn up. It doesn’t look like we’ll have help anytime soon.” The man looked around at the destruction, and his wife nodded in agreement.
Another man ran up wearing an old, weathered John Deere ball cap. “The police station and the fire house are GONE!” He was breathing heavily. “There’s a police car buried in what’s left of a house, but we haven’t been able to find any of the officers. Both of the fire trucks and the ambulance are scattered around. The firehouse is just gone!”
Aren looked up at him. “See if you can find a metal pipe and bang it on the floor. Listen to see if you hear a response. They may be trapped in the basement. If they are, try to move what’s trapping them, and then come and get us if you can’t.” She knew the best way to keep people from panicking was to give them something worthwhile to do. The big-bellied man ran up carrying two gallons of water.
“I found these and some more over at the convenience store. How they survived I’ll never know, but there’s a few cases of them still boxed up neat as could be in what I’m guessin’ was the storeroom. The store’s gone, but the water was just a’ sitting there.” He handed the bottled water to Carol.
“Thank you. Carol, would you open one of them for me? It’ll sting a lot less than this alcohol.” Aren smiled at the man, who knelt to watch Aren work.
She flushed out the wounds with a five-to-one mix of water and Betadine solution before drawing a bit of lidocaine into a syringe.
“Are you allergic to any medications?” Aren asked the woman. She shook her head. “This will numb your cuts so I can stitch them. It’s lidocaine, just like they use in the hospitals, okay?” Aren explained.
The woman nodded, wincing a bit as Aren injected the solution into the few cuts that needed stitches.
“Okay, let’s give that a second to numb up before I clean out those cuts with a disinfectant. Then we’ll have you sewn up like new.” Aren pulled out a suture needle. As she stitched the woman’s forehead, she explained, “These sutures will dissolve in about ten days. Just keep it clean and covered. Once things are cleared out around here a bit, I’d have your doctor take a look just to make sure there’s no infection. Conditions like this don’t make for a sterile working environment.”
“Thank you. I know none of us around here have been too kind to you, yet here you are helping.” The husband looked suitably embarrassed.
“I recognize you two from the farmer’s market. You’re out there all the time buying goodies.” Aren smiled.
Aren’s heart hammered in her chest. It was the first time she’d sutured since Kentucky. She kept the supplies up to date, but hadn’t used her skills since that fateful night four years ago. She found herself praying her hand stayed steady and she was able to see in the dimming light.
Chapter Forty-one
Darkness quickly swept across the small town. Someone brought a generator to the street. Several men worked together to clear off a section of road to be used as a triage unit until emergency service vehicles could get into town. People started to appear with halogen lights from their garages or lanterns from their root cellars to hang for lighting. A few showed up with cots and set them up out in the open area. Those with injuries sat on the curb waiting for their turn. Maggie had walked Wyatt and Doc over to a hand pump well in the park to get some much-needed water and grass.
“Ok, we’ll need to see that lady next. We have limited time to suture so all the deep wounds are first priority unless someone passes out or has a broken bone, though I have yet to see any injuries that bad.” Aren naturally took charge of her area.
The man wearing the John Deere ball cap came into the tent helping a police officer stay steady on his feet. The officer gladly took a cot offered to him. Aren rushed over to the man in the cap.
“Did you free everyone trapped in the station house?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think we got ’em all. Some of the other fellas are helping more folks over here. The guys stuck in the firehouse are headed over too,” he said, taking his cap off and scratching the sweaty, stubbly hair on his head.
“Do you think you can take a couple of people and find me some more sterile gauze or maxi pads still sealed in the wrappers, really anything sterile that I can use to cover up some of these wounds? I’m running low on supplies. I’d also like more syringes and twenty-gauge needles if you can find them and something to use for sutures. Who knew we had so much glass in this town!” Aren ran her hand through her hair, wiping away the sweat.
“You got it, need anything else, Doc?” he asked, returning his ball cap to his head.
“If you can find me a couple of cups of coffee, I’ll be forever grateful! One with cream and sugar if at all possible,” she said, smiling.
The man hollered for a couple of his buddies and left to find Aren’s list of supplies. She looked down at the police officer,
who looked back at her with eyes that weren’t quite right.
“Carol, could you bring me a pen light?” Aren asked, kneeling beside the officer as more uniformed men hobbled in.
Aren lifted each of his eyelids and used a pen light to check the retraction of his pupils. They were dilated and slow to respond to the light. His skin color was especially pale, and his hand was cold and clammy.
“Were you trapped, Officer?” Aren asked him.
“I, I don’t know.” He continued to look at her, dazed.
Aren took her pen light and traced the outline of his body. He had all the signs of having lost a lot of blood. His pulse was weak.
“I’m going to have you turn onto your side a bit, okay? Do you feel pain anywhere?” Aren asked.
“What about my stitches?” the lady sitting next to the officer asked.
“He’s in shock and could die if I don’t figure out where he’s bleeding from. Your stitches will wait a few more minutes!” Aren had no time for prima donnas.
She ran her hand over the officer and found blood. His right thigh was sticky and wet.
“I’m going to have to roll you over.”
Carol helped Aren roll him over on his stomach. The back of his pant leg was soaked with blood. Using her knife, she cut the pants open to reveal a deep gash from his inner thigh, just above his knee. Carol had the water ready but Aren held up her hand to stop her. She dug into the backpack and pulled out a roll of Coflex. She unwound a good portion of it and rolled it between her palms until it was more like a shoestring than a flat bandage. Aren wrapped it around the officer’s leg and tied it snugly. Next, she reached for a stout branch lying on the concrete beside her. She placed the branch beneath the tied bandage and began to twist, cutting off the circulation in his leg. The man screamed in pain and Aren found herself wishing county help would arrive quickly. She wasn’t prepared to help this man in dim lighting with one weak eye, nor could she handle another death on her conscience.